


Rapunzel

by Aruthla



Series: Once upon a time [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fairytail AU, I mean, Illegal Imprisonment, M/M, everything he does is illegal, maybe more chapters, we are talking of Morgoth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 19:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18155987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aruthla/pseuds/Aruthla
Summary: It had been more than twenty years that he was locked in the same room and soon he would be able to escape. He felt it deep inside him, luck will soon smile at him.





	Rapunzel

**Author's Note:**

> First story for the Feanorian Week !
> 
> Hope you will like it !
> 
> English isn't my native language. So, sorry for the fault

A door creaked, pulling him from his reverie. The echo of laughter disappeared in the roaring wind, sweeping the desolate land that stretched as far as the eye could see. Slowly, he turned to the newcomer. A mocking smile on his lips, he looked at him, as one looks at a bird locked in a golden cage.

 

"How are you on this beautiful day, Maedhros?" He exclaimed happily.

 

Maedhros remained silent, glaring at him. He had stopped talking for so long. Or maybe he had really lost his voice?

This thought gave him a sardonic smile, which did not please the lord of the place. Straightening up, he advanced towards Maedhros, who didn’t look away from his. 

 

"What amuses you so much?" He growled.

 

Maedhros's smile widen as his gaze went to the crown on the Dark Lord's head. A roar of rage escaped him and he brandished his fist. But scarcely had he touched the white skin of Maedhros than a cry of pain escaped the black being.

If he could, Maedhros would have laughed. Seeing the "Great and Powerful" Morgoth, screaming in pain was always a phenomenon that filled him with joy. Perhaps it was cruel on his part and his grandfather would have disapproved of such an attitude, but for all the harm Morgoth had done, it wasn’t much.

The latter glared at him, filled with menace and promising a thousand sufferings, but what had he to fear when he had nothing left to lose?

Then he just smiled as the Dark Lord retreated, taking the light of the Silmarilli with him.

 

When the door was locked again and hidden behind the many spells that kept it hidden from his eyes, Maedhros let himself be swept away by his reveries. After all, he didn’t have much to do, locked up every day in the same room, without the slightest distraction other than a window that allowed him to "admire" the landscape around Angbang.

Slowly, his eyes wandered over the sharp rocks that sprouted from the arid soil, where the wind rushed to scream all his rage. Despite being hidden in the shadows of the rocky peaks, Maedhros could see the balrogs, terrible fire creatures of Morgoth. Their black flames mingled with darkness, but from time to time an orange sparkle arose from that darkness. It was only a brief moment, but he knew exactly where each of his monsters was. After all, it had been more than twenty years that he was locked in the same room and soon he would be able to escape. He felt it deep inside him, luck will soon smile at him. 

For the first time since he was here, a smile appeared on his face. 

 

* * *

 

It was one of this rare nights when dreams prevailed over vigilance. He refused to open his eyes, for fear of getting lost in this illusion of the past. He could feel the wind waving the grass under his child's body. In the distance, laughter broke the tranquility of nature. A hand, warm and reassuring, stroked his hair. He heard the laughters called someone. A laugh echoed around him. The hand continued to stroke his hair. He felt someone shake him. The hand was still in his hair, then suddenly she disappeared.

 

"You have to wake up. Now! "

 

Brutally, his eyes open. A black form was bent just above him. Without thinking, he punched the intruder's belly. The form recoiled. It wanted to speak. Maedhros didn’t give it time. A new punch flew to face this time. He refused to give the intruder any chance. Again, he charged to the squatting form. But this time, it didn’t receive any shots. Quickly it grabbed his arm and passed Maedhros over it. The meeting with the ground cut his breath, allowing the stranger to block him. With his arm behind his back and the intruder sitting on his legs, Maedhros still struggled. 

 

"I'm not your enemy!" Exclaimed the stranger. 

 

Maedhros didn’t answer, still struggling. 

 

"It's me ! Fin-! "

 

Having managed to free himself, Maedhros put both his hands on the imprudent's mouth, although it wasn’t wanted. But to say his name in his walls could be dangerous. Something that the imbecile who was in front of him had to ignore. 

Slowly, he began to examine the ignorant in front of him and wondered how he had done to get here. After all, someone who walks with golden threads in his hair is far from being discreet. Or the guard had relaxed, which meant it was his lucky moment. No ! It was too good to be true. It must have been a trick of Morgoth. It was impossible for this guy to have penetrated the citadel of Angbang without being spotted. 

He was out of his thoughts by something wet against his fingers. Immediately, he pushed his hands away, before rubbing them energetically on the first piece of rag he found. He heard the stranger laugh, a sound that seemed nostalgic for a strange reason. Chasing this crazy thought, he focused on the intruder, seeking to pierce the spell that hides the true appearance of Morgoth's pawn. It was then that he noticed the skin tanned by long hours in the sun, where there was no mark left by his hands. What was not possible! Did Morgoth find a way to get through his ...?

 

"Ma-"

 

Again, his hands slammed into the fool's mouth, which he glared at. However, instead of getting scared like any sensible person, the stranger smiled, disconcerting Maedhros.

 

"Talking is too dangerous?" Asked the stranger.

 

Maedhros shook his head, trying to understand why it had no effect on the intruder.

 

"So it's the names. It'll be practical to convince you ... "he mumbled.

 

This time, Maedhros was very perplexed. How not to be able to say the names could be problematic to convince him. And convince him of what?

The stranger continued to mumble for a moment longer, before being struck by a genius flash in view of his expression. Dismantling a dagger, he handed it to Maedhros, who took it cautiously, not wishing to be left with a cursed blade in his hands. Slowly, he inspected the weapon, turning the silver handle encrusted with a single ruby on the pommel. Inspecting more closely the ruby, Maedhros realized that it was engraved with a… 

star!

Raising his head toward the stranger, he wanted to ask him, to question him to find out how one of his brothers' daggers had been in his hands. Because he was sure of it, it was a dagger forged by his father, for each of his brothers.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a warm hand on his face. Catching the stranger's wrist to keep his hand away, he realized that it was wet. Passing his fingers over his face, Maedhros realized that he was crying. But it wasn’t tears of sadness. It was tears of joy, joy to know his brothers alive, since the seven branches of the star warmed gently, as in his memories. Tears of joy to know that he had been right all these years, while Morgoth came to make him doubting his convictions. But suddenly, this joy turned into terror. Morgoth knew that his brothers were alive. He had kept them alive all this time. Which meant ... 

Rising up, he rushed to the window and saw with horror an army leaving the citadel. An immense army, composed of men, free and slave, orcs, creatures without souls created from the black earth of Angbang and the blood of the victims of Morgoth, and finally of balrogs.

 

"Shit!"

 

So full of thought, Maedhros had forgotten the presence of the stranger.

 

"If this army goes to Formenos, we will never hold."

 

With force, he grabbed the hands of the stranger and traced in his palm words.

 

'Did you recover Formenos?'

"What do you mean “recover”?"

 

He didn’t know. This fool didn’t know that Formenos belonged to Morgoth. He didn’t know that the council was corrupt. He didn’t know that it was because of them that his father was no longer of this world, that it was because of them that he had been kept prisoner here.

 

"Don’t tell me - don’t tell me that Formenos has already fallen into Morgoth's hands," begged the stranger.

 

Reluctantly, Maedhros nodded.

 

"We have to get out of here! My father and your brothers are on the way to Formenos! "

 

Before the stranger could step over the window sill, Maedhros grabbed his arm and pulled him back, pointing out the dark areas between the rocks. At the moment the stranger looked in the pointed direction, an orange flame appeared in several places. 

 

"What- ?!"

'Balrog.'

"But how many of his monsters are there ?!" he grumbled. 

'Less than before. And before, I mean twenty years ago. ' Treacher Maedhros in the leather glove of the stranger. 

"How are we going to get out of here?"

"Do you have anything to make fire?"

"Yes?"

 

Maedhros' smile didn’t seem to reassure the stranger. 

 

* * *

 

"I can't believe it worked ..." muttered incredulously the stranger.

 

For his part, Maedhros had been certain of the success of his plan. After all, he was far too valuable to be left alive in a fire, even if it was him that he had started it. Fortunately for them, neither Morgoth nor Sauron appeared when the door was opened by slaves. Convince them to bring them to the stables had been just as easy as escaping from the citadel. Far too easy. That's why Maedhros didn’t let go of his vigilance even as the horses were spinning as fast as the wind in the swampy plains. 

According to his mysterious companion, it was the quickest way to join Formenos, and therefore his brothers, before the arrival of Morgoth's army. Hoping that the army of the father of the stranger hasn’t yet arrived, and if so, that the council hasn’t ambushed them to deliver them on a silver platter. At this thought, his right hand went to rest on the dagger at his belt, where he could feel a comforting warmth emanating from the ruby. 

Suddenly, his gaze was drawn by bubbles breaking the greenish surface of a pond on his left. Brutally, a greyish body emerges from the water, causing the horses to arch in front of the troll that had just appeared. Maedhros and the stranger fell horses, which disappeared in the plains. The troll straightened up, lifting his club over his head, before shoot it down on the ground. By the way, the two young men avoided the mass of wood. Briefly, Maedhros thanked Rog, one of Angbang's few escaped slaves, who had helped him to train in combat without Morgoth and Sauron knowing it. Grabbing a bow they had stolen, Maedhros nocked an arrow, which he let slip towards the troll. Unfortunately, the creature placed his right arm in front of his eye, protecting one of his rare weak spots. A curse resounded and the creature headed toward the stranger. A glance was exchanged between Maedhros and his companion. Immediately, the latter began to call the troll of different names, all more ridiculous than each other. With the creature's attention firmly fixed on the stranger, Maedhros stuck a new arrow, which hit his target. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to kill the troll, who roared. Charging towards Maedhros, the creature raised his club. But before being able to bring it down, the day came up. Slowly, slabs of rock appeared on the skin of the troll, causing it to fall to the ground. In the shock of the fall, his legs broke, while the rest of his body continued to change into stone. Crawling, he tried to reach Maedhros, who shot a new arrow in his other eye. At the same moment, the troll finished to turn in a statu, remaining frozen in a shriek of bestial rage. 

 

"You know how to fight?" His companion asked, fumbling with his sword at the statued troll. 

'Rog taught me.' Replied Maedhros, hoping the name was familiar to the stranger. 

 

For a moment, he mumbled the name a few times before snapping his fingers. 

 

"Big, dark skin, white hair and gray eyes?" At the sign of acquiescence from the redhead, he spoke again, "He is in the service of my brother. A hell of a fighter and an excellent blacksmith, well, not as much as Un-Master Fëanor, "he said again, as if he feared his father would come out of nowhere when he heard someone was better than him. 

 

Suddenly, his mind registered what the stranger had said, or rather began to say. Brutally, Maedhros catched the face of the stranger and examined his features. The shape of the eyes, cheekbones and nose was familiar to him, a vague legacy of his grandfather, just like his black hair. Raising the locks that fell on his companion's forehead, he found a tiny scar on the border of the scalp. 

He only remembered one person who could have had a scar on this spot. One person stupid enough to answer a challenge from his third brother to prove he wasn’t a coward. One person who braved his vertigo to prove that his line wasn’t less than theirs. Only one person who had climbed into the big oak in the garden and had slipped. Only one person he had saved, give them both a scar on his forehead. 

 

"Fin ..." he crossed, his voice broken and weak in all his years refusing to talk to his tormentor. 

 

A smile came to illuminate the face of Findekáno, his cousin and first son of his uncle, first son of the second marriage of his grandfather. 

 

"Before you ask, Tyelkormo has nothing to do with it. I acted on my own valuation, "he said with a big smile. 

 

It snatched a laugh from Maedhros who was struggling to recognize his one-year-old cousin younger than him. On the other hand, it had been more than twenty years since he had seen anyone but Morgoth and Sauron, though the latter was much rarer, while the Dark Lord never failed to see him. every day. This thought reminded him of their situation, and with regret he called him back to Findekáno.

Quickly, they set off, having lost their advantage with the horses that would have allowed them to arrive in Formenos in five days, whereas they would take two weeks now, perhaps more if the weather didn’t play out. their favor, which was difficult to say with the black sky that extended beyond the mountains marking the beginning of the territory of Morgoth. 

Sharing a glance, the two young men set off, praying to be able to arrive in time.

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


End file.
